


Black Lace on Sweat

by m3aculpa



Category: Glee
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, F/F, Hand Kink, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3aculpa/pseuds/m3aculpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana thinks Quinn's new style is hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Lace on Sweat

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Black Lace on Sweat  
>  **Fandom:** Glee  
>  **Pairing/character:** Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez, Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Warnings:** Sexual content. Spoilers for s03e01.  
>  **Word count:** 713 words  
>  **Prompt:** Written for the 2011 Halloween Mini Round over at [](http://rounds-of-kink.livejournal.com/profile)[**rounds_of_kink**](http://rounds-of-kink.livejournal.com/) , for the prompt _lace_ and the kinks _hand fetishization_ (big strong hands; steady hands; rough knuckles; calluses; fists clenching in sheets) and _coming without being touched_.  
>  **Summary:** Santana thinks Quinn's new style is hot.  
>  **a/n:** First posted [here](http://rounds-of-kink.livejournal.com/713029.html).  
> 

**Black Lace on Sweat**

  
Santana wished she could explain why it was so hot – the pink hair, the nose-ring, the new style. But she couldn’t stop looking at Quinn and, worst of all, Quinn clearly took notice of the lingering looks. She smirked and blew more smoke into Santana’s face. It made her eyes water and irritated her throat. She offered a vicious glare, which only made Quinn’s smirk wider and more mocking. She wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but she felt her pussy throb in arousal at the sight.

Quinn threw her cigarette onto the ground and put it out with her shoe. Her hips swayed provocatively. The long skirt somehow managed to be sexier than the short Cheerios’ skirt had ever been. Santana allowed herself to be backed up against the wall. Small, dainty hands grabbed her wrists in a vice-like grip and she let herself be pinned against the wall. They were pressed front to front; Santana’s boobs against Quinn’s. Nipples rubbing against the fabric of her bra with the pressure from the other body. Her breathing hitched and then quickened. Quinn huffed against her cheek and it was almost like a laugh. But a true laugh wasn’t supposed to be this cruel and mocking.

She nuzzled up against Santana’s face and the nose-ring dragged over her skin. Breath, warm and moist, against Santana’s cheek. Their noses touched together and she heard that sound again. That strange not-laugh. Quinn’s nails, always perfectly manicured in the past, were now blunt and rough. They dug into Santana’s wrists and it hurt. She might be bleeding. She didn’t care because another mouth latched onto hers and it was so hot – a tongue thrust into her mouth, spearing her, and she whimpered helplessly.

She was caught between the wall and Quinn and Quinn’s skirt was falling off. She was wearing a black lace thong. Suddenly her hands were gone and Santana whimpered at the loss before she could check herself. Quinn smiled her old smug, infuriating smile – _I’m Quinn Fabray and you’re so obviously not, so obviously lacking, never reaching up to quite my level_ – and tugged her top off. She wore a matching lace bra. Santana’s mouth became as dry as a desert. Quinn stripped her with mechanical efficiency. Not the slow care she’d taken in the past.

Her hands returned to work as shackles on Santana’s wrists and it made her pussy throb. She moaned. Helplessly she thrust up against Quinn, but the other girl wouldn’t let her get any friction. She whimpered. Soft hands squeezed down on her wrists. The mouth was covering hers with rough kisses that made them tingle and swell. She felt hot and pressed closer to the cool wall. It gave her relief from the heat. Quinn felt like a furnace. The lace of the bra singed her with greater heat than Quinn’s bare skin. Being the only one naked made her pulse miss a beat. Quinn rubbed herself against her thigh and Santana slid her leg more firmly between the blonde’s legs. The lace panties were soaked as they slid against her overheated skin.

She wasn’t getting any relief for herself. But Quinn’s hands firmly around her wrists, the lace, the exposure, the quiet moans from Quinn when she rubbed herself against Santana’s leg – it was getting her hotter than she’d ever been before. Quinn’s mouth fell open and her rubbing was getting erratic. There was a muffled yell and Santana’s felt how Quinn came. She shuddered and gasped. Santana felt her gut clenching in familiar warning and then she was coming. She felt her juices drip down her thigh.

Quinn kissed her and huffed that not-laugh again. With a mocking smirk she got dressed and left. Santana was still coming down from her orgasm and couldn’t stop her. Her thighs were quivering. But suddenly she didn’t feel like the new Quinn was so hot, after all. She didn’t like new Quinn that much, as of a matter of fact.

She wanted the old Quinn back. The old Quinn that would have kissed and cuddled after sex – things that had annoyed her before, but she felt like she needed now. She got dressed and felt colder than she’d ever before.

She needed to get the old Quinn back.

  



End file.
